Page 72 of Anatomy of a Meet Cute
“Just relax. You’ll be fine,” Grant said, giving her hand a squeeze and pulling her out of her thoughts.
“Sorry,” Sam said, guilt piling on her. Trying to lighten everyone’s mood, she added, “I should have had an extra coffee.”
“I’ll have one delivered,” Sherilynn said matter-of-factly from their perch by the door. Sam suspected she was keeping an eye out for Duesa in case they needed to intercept her before she saw Sam breaking down and pitched a fit.
Sighing, Sam shook out her shoulders and then smiled at the camera again. “If you want to learn more, visit Anjo Group dot co. That’s Anjo Group dot co. Okay, now you can tell ’em, Grant.”
She nodded at Grant in her best scripted playful manner, then mentally sighed with relief. Only a few more lines to go, and then she could get the hell away from all these cameras and the bright lights that were definitely going to make her sweat through the pits of her blouse. Thank God she hadn’t chosen to wear silk—
“Sam. Do you need another minute?” the producer asked through gritted teeth. Sam felt her face flush when she realized that she had been so happy to be done with her line that she’d completely missed the handoff for her next one.
“So sorry,” Sam said, pointedly avoiding the looks from the sound guy, whose gray hair was poking out in tufts under his headphones.
“Coffee’s here,” Sherilynn announced. “Why don’t we take a ten-minute break to get caffeinated?”
“I think that would be wise.” The producer sighed and walked away from camera one.
Sam’s eyes burned as she slunk out of the chair and over to the table in the corner, where something that was thankfully not boxed coffee had been placed. If Bebe hadn’t worked so hard on her makeup, she would have started to cry. As it was, she had a feeling that the ten-minute break being extended because one of the actors had a meltdown would only make things worse for her.
Reaching for the creamer, Sam tried not to think about how badly she was tanking. Sure, it would have been nice if she’d had more time with the script. But she also should have put her foot down with her mom long before 12:30 a.m. If she’d just stood up for herself—
“Hey,” Grant said, coming to stand beside her. “How you doing?”
Sam knew his tone was meant to be supportive, but she wished he wouldn’t ask right now. After all, the only answer to that question was somewhere betweenterribleanddo you know if there is a nearby manhole I can jump in?Letting her shoulders sag, she turned to answer him. “Been better.”
Grant snorted and shook his head. “Don’t worry. This stuff is hard.”
“Not for you.” Sam glared at her coffee and wished she could just make a break for the door without anyone noticing. With her luck, Sherilynn probably had someone watching for just such a thing.
“Oh no. It was hard for me too. Since you were busy, I actually forced my mom to run lines with me. Let me tell you, she had a lot of notes.” Grant laughed.
“Sorry I couldn’t be there,” Sam said, trying to laugh.
“What time did you finish up with your mom anyway?”
“Twelve forty-five.”
“In the morning? Sam, that’s ridiculous.” Grant sounded incredulous as he watched her sip her coffee. “No wonder you are tired. Why didn’t you just leave?”
“It’s not that simple with my mom.” Sam frowned at Grant as she blew on her coffee, creating miniature waves in the beverage as she tried to cool it down. She knew her mother’s expectations were unreasonable, but it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. She only had Duke’s car for the night. What was she supposed to do? Just leave her mom throwing a tantrum in the hotel for the next three days with no way to move her party stuff around? She couldn’t do that. Every moment she stalled was another minute for her mother to get more worked up. Trying to stop her would only make Sam’s life more difficult down the road. All she had to do was keep it together and stick to the plan. Short-term suffering for long-term peace.
“I feel like midnight when you have a big day in the morning crosses into the ‘simple’ territory,” Grant said, using one hand to put air quotes around the wordsimple.
“You try telling her that.” Sam took a step back from Grant and reached for her purse sitting on the next table with all the crew members’ bags. She didn’t want to argue with Grant right now. She’d had enough of that with her mother correcting every little step she’d taken last night. Besides, she couldn’t fix the fact that she wasn’t perfect at this.Or that her mother wasn’t a professional entertainer. He had to believe that she was trying, didn’t he?
“I mean, I know she isn’t my mom, but it sounds like you need to set a boundary with her,” Grant said softly as he stepped closer.
“Yeah. You’ve said that before,” Sam said, hoping her uninterested tone would dissuade him from pushing the matter.
“It’s just ... you don’t have to help everyone all the time. You could say no and let someone else figure it out.” Sam looked up sharply, causing Grant to close his mouth, his jaw tense. Sighing, he put his free hand in the pocket of his slacks and said, “What I mean is—”
“Are you really criticizing me for trying to help?” Sam cut in. If anyone should get family pressure and her mother, it was Grant. But clearly he didn’t, and now he was piling on more guilt. The one thing she had plenty of in her life. Of course, Mr.Practically Perfect would think there was a neat little solution to her problems because there always seemed to be one for his. Grant didn’t juggle complex and conflicting commitments. He just solved a problem or said no to someone and moved on because he was lovable. He probably thought that anyone he was with had the same easy-breezy experience—otherwise, why would he be with them? He wouldn’t knowingly invite a mess into his life.
Sam recoiled from the thought. Sure, he could be hard to read, but did one criticism make his feelings fickle? The muscles in her neck bunched, and Sam said, “Look, Grant, I—”
She stopped as the phone in her hand buzzed with a text. When she looked down, Kaiya’s name and one word scrolled across the screen.
SOS
